till there was you
by xIrelandx
Summary: Apollo isn't quite ready to be spending the holidays alone, without either Clay or the crew of GYAXA. Written for pelomyxa and the transattorneys secret santa. Includes trans!Apollo, Phoenix/Apollo, past Clay/Apollo and Aura/Metis, and background Trucy/Pearl and Athena/Juniper. Warning: a lot of angst, spoilers through Dual Destinies, swearing.


It doesn't start to sting until at least a month later. The New Year has come and gone so quickly that it barely even registers with Apollo. They're working through it, anyway, building up a defense case for Aura. Mr. Wright doesn't seem entirely convinced, but he and Athena are determined. They won't be able to get her off of all charges, obviously – the Judge was in the room when a good percent of her actions occurred, but they're fairly certain they can make a case for something like heartbreak. Losing her lover and her brother was hard enough, but this was seven years later and she'd lost now lost someone she had considered to be like a son. Clay Terran was as much a part of Aura's family as Simon was. Apollo had become a part of that too, as a kid. He was never an astronaut or as deeply involved with the stars as the others were, but GYAXA was his home, where he spent every holiday and celebrated every victory, no matter how minor. They were the first people he showed off his attorney's badge to, and the first people to console him about Clay's death. They were the ones who told him about it, after all, and Aura offered to do all the talking for him when he realized what he needed more than anything was to separate himself from his job, to view things more objectively.

It had been a nice offer, but Apollo was also wary. He knew Aura had never cared for Athena, not since Metis's death. It was a long time to hold a grudge, but the more suspicious he became of his co-worker the more he understood. It was blinding grief that added to his suspicion – what motive did she have for killing someone she barely even knew? – but it was suspicion all the same. And he never hated himself so much for anything.

But there was something else the people of GYAXA – or, more specifically, Aura – knew about Apollo that made them seem safer than anywhere else. Even the Agency.

Being a foster child was difficult enough to start with. Being bounced from family to family, barely getting to know names before they decided they didn't want you and you were back at the home again. It could get really emotionally devastating, and even more so if you wound up in a foster home that hated everything you were. So Apollo couldn't exactly be open about everything he felt, not with anyone until he met Clay. And even that took some doing.

It was at least two years after his mom died that Apollo decided to tell Clay about his biggest secret, the one he was most afraid of revealing. He could remember having Clay sit down on a bench while he paced in front of him, trying to make the words leave his mouth. He didn't have the best vocabulary at the time, especially not for something as taboo as what he had been feeling. He tried to bite his tongue to keep the nervous tears from spilling, but he was a preteen and the rush of hormones always made things difficult.

Especially since he was physically female at the time.

"I don't wanna be a girl," was what he eventually wound up telling Clay. He could tell Clay didn't fully understand, especially not when Apollo pressed that the issue was supposed to be kept a secret. But that was just how Clay was, open. He'd had to learn to be, now that he only had one parent he could turn to. Apollo supposed Clay had assumed he was the same way, he always seemed so confident. Apollo mistook the confusion for rejection, and almost ran away. He was held back by Clay's voice shouting "You're Apollo Justice, and you're fine!"

It was only three days later that they visited GYAXA for the first time. Clay had been there a couple of times before, on his own and with his dad, but Apollo had never been. Apollo had managed to ditch the uniform's skirt for a pair of pants that Clay had lent him, and with his short hair slicked back he felt much more comfortable, much more himself. Aura had heard that Clay was bringing his "tomboy friend" with him to the station this time around, and she was more than a little surprised to see that "tomboy" was a massive understatement for something else entirely. She'd been a tomboy herself once, gladly playing a rival ninja to her brother in the backyard when they were kids.

All the same, she couldn't tell if Clay's description was deliberate, or simply a misconception. What she saw was a shy child, unsure of themself and glancing around the room like they were expecting a bomb to go off at any minute.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Apollo had turned around with those big, brown eyes looking at her with timidity. "There's…nothing wrong with you, you know." She was never good at talking to kids, even when she was one, but she knew she had to try. She didn't think anyone else had or would. "If you want to be a boy, be a boy. If you want to be a girl, be a girl. If you don't want to be either, then you don't have to be. Don't let somebody else determine who you are; only you can do that."

Apollo just stared at her, blankly, too touched to speak. Clay had come up behind him then, giving his shoulder a hard tap and shouting "TAG, YOU'RE IT!"

* * *

><p>Apollo was awakened from his reverie by a text from Athena reminding him that they're having a Christmas party at the Agency today. He can't imagine holding such a large gathering in such a small space, but he knows from past experience that if anyone can make it happen, it's Phoenix Wright. (Although he sometimes suspects the real credit belongs to Maya and Pearl Fey, with a little help from Trucy.) He's promised he'll go to the party, but he knows Christmas here will be nothing like Christmas at GYAXA. Either way there would be eggnog, either way there would be music, either way there would be a ridiculous ugly sweater contest.<p>

But there's no Clay. There's no Aura, who he'd come to know like a mother. There's no trivia game of science facts and no sugar cookies shaped like rocket ships. They might not have made a big thing of Christmas at GYAXA, but it…was his home, and this was the first time in nearly a decade he'd be spending Christmas anywhere else. There's a dread in his stomach that he knows shouldn't be there, but he can't help it. It's not much like Christmas, not this year.

He manages to show up at what Klavier would call "Fashionably Late." Ema opens the door for him, looking unnaturally cheery (but maybe not so unnaturally drunk). Blackquill is standing in the kitchen with a red plastic cup in hand, with what Apollo can only assume is heavily spiked eggnog. He isn't mingling or even talking to anyone at the moment – just staring out at the crowd. Apollo follows his gaze and isn't surprised in the least to find that he's watching Athena, currently flushed down to her chest with her face buried in Juniper's neck. He's never seen anyone go so red from the restraint of coughing. He turns a corner and nearly runs straight into Trucy and Pearl, their faces mushed together in what has got to be the most awkward first kiss Apollo has ever witnessed. He turns away and makes a loud noise. He can see them jump from the corner of his eye, and as he walks past them with a small nod he hears them giggle, certain they just got away with…whatever. It just wouldn't be a Christmas party without drunk couples making out behind every corner.

Apollo has to hide his face by looking at the floor. He's smiling, but he's swallowing too to keep the tears from pushing to the surface. He remembers the year – _the_ year, the one where they had all saved up enough money to help him pay for surgery to get rid of the breasts that were by now uncomfortably large – watching Aura giggle and sit in Metis's lap, kissing her with fervor. Simon – because that's how he knew him, back then – pretended to be grossed out by the show of affection, but the affect itself was ruined by his laughter. Director Cosmos just mumbled something about "pretending I didn't see that." Apollo stared at them, wistfully, and looked next to him at Clay, engrossed in an advanced astronomy textbook Mister Starbuck had bought for him. Then, he was wishing Clay would turn around and kiss him; even now, he regrets not making the first move. He didn't think he'd find anyone else like Clay.

He wasn't wrong.

"Hey, Apollo. Glad you could make it." He was standing up against the wall, staring off into space, when Mr. Wright had slid next to him. He seemed to be the only one who wasn't drunk or drinking, holding a cup of sparkling grape juice.

"Decided to go fancy for the holidays?" Apollo asked with a smirk.

"You know me. I've always been the festive type." He laughed at himself, quickly looking away. "Do you want some?"

Apollo was thankful that Larry Butz was off in a corner, snickering and planning a prank of some sort with Maya Fey. He'd hate to think of the tons of innuendos that could be found in that simple statement. He really didn't need any more embarrassment this year. He had far surpassed his quota.

But he kept that thought to himself. "Sure," he said, nodding, trying to remember to smile.

Mr. Wright brushed past him, a little too close, and Apollo could feel the warmth of his body as he moved, could smell the faint tinge of cologne. His stomach dropped a little, wondering who it was Mr. Wright was trying to impress. He was too busy worrying about it to realize that the man had come back, nudging him with his forearm. "It's a little loud in here," he said, mouth a little too close to Apollo's ear. Apollo was about to argue that it wasn't all that loud, because he knew what was going to happen and he didn't feel like answering questions. But true to form, the universe proved him wrong and Athena started cackling loudly, setting off another round of loud and off-key Christmas carols from Detective Gumshoe.

There was no avoiding it now. Apollo simply sighed, and let himself be dragged away by his boss.

* * *

><p>"Are you…feeling okay?" Mr. Wright had the decency to wait until they were alone in the room with the door closed to ask. "You seem a little off."<p>

_Still_, Apollo added. He shouldn't have been so broken up about his friend's death, not a year later, not on Christmas. He'd managed to put on a brave front while the trial was still going on, but the longer he pushed his feelings aside the more he could feel himself slipping. He cried himself to sleep most nights, and woke up feeling empty and more alone than ever. It had always been painful before, but now he was experiencing Christmas without even a surrogate family. He was just Apollo Justice now, an only child with no parents or friends.

He looked back up, Mr. Wright looking so concerned Apollo was afraid he might start crying. "I'm fine," he lied. _If you lie often enough, it becomes the truth_. He couldn't remember where he'd heard that before, or even if he'd made it up himself. It seemed good enough logic, at least for now. _Fake it 'til you make it_.

"No, you're not." Mr. Wright had his back turned to him then, hand tangling through his hair. Apollo was overcome with the urge to touch the back of his head, where seven years' worth of hat-wearing had left an obvious tan line. He wanted to push his fingers through that hair, see if it was true that it that those absurd spikes were actually natural. But, like with all things, he bit his tongue and pretended like he wasn't feeling anything.

"…I have a Christmas present for you." Apollo looked up, surprised. He wasn't expecting to get anything from anybody, least of all his boss. "Well, it's not _my _Christmas present for you. I do have one, it's just not…finished yet." He held out a letter, not unlike the one he'd handed Trucy almost two years ago. His hand was trembling for some reason, but Apollo didn't focus too closely on it.

He was too consumed by the letter. So overwhelmed by what it said that he didn't realize he'd started crying, or that Mr. Wright had wrapped his arms around him. Apollo couldn't tell if these contents, what Lamiroir – what _Thalassa_ – was saying made things better or worse. But they hurt, and it was like being repeatedly kicked in the stomach. He did have a family, a real family, but nearly all of them were gone. He understood why Mr. Wright didn't want to give this too him out where everybody else was standing.

Once he calmed down enough for the hiccups to stop, he found himself wiping his eyes sheepishly on the cuffs of his sweater, too embarrassed to look Mr. Wright in the eye. "Does – Does Trucy know, yet?"

"No," he replied quietly. "I'll tell her tomorrow. She's a little preoccupied right now. She hardly ever gets to spend time alone with Pearl. Thalassa will still be her mother, and yours, in the morning."

Apollo looked away, at first letting it all sink in. Then his nose crumpled in confusion. The words came out of his mouth before he had a chance to think them through. "But how did she know that I –" he stopped, horrified, and covered his mouth.

"That you're a boy?" he said, only slightly amused.

"You knew about that too?"

He looked away again. "…She recognized your voice. How she managed to do that after it changed is beyond me. Maybe the Gramaryes really are magical."

"Okay," Apollo said slowly. "How… How did you know?"

Mr. Wright didn't answer at first. Apollo figured it was his turn to be embarrassed. "Didn't you ever think it was strange that I requested you specifically?"

Apollo frowned. "Huh?"

"When we first met, when you were defending me. Didn't you think it was a little weird that I even knew who you were?"

"But… but you didn't. You said –"

"That you had a strange name," he snorted. "I was feeding you shit, kid. It's not every day you meet a lawyer whose last name is so…_appropriate_."

Apollo was back to feeling agitated. An emotion he could actually take, was actually used to, was actually relatively comfortable with. "Okay, smartass. So how did you know about me? I always just assumed Mr. Gavin told you, but I'm guessing you're about to tell me otherwise."

"It was a bizarre chain of events, actually," he said, rubbing his chin. "Larry has had a string of odd jobs; at one point in time, he was a janitor for GYAXA. If you'd ever seen his apartment, you'd know why it didn't last very long."

Apollo frowned, trying to remember.

"Anyway, he…overheard you talking about me. He thought it was hilarious that I had a fan. I told him to knock it off and leave you alone, but before he actually did that he went and told Maya and Edgeworth." He sighed, shaking his head. "Maya, of course, has no sense of boundaries. She wanted to know more about my 'fan,' and so she did. I have no idea how she got all the information, but…she did. And she told me everything." He squirmed uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, I know that's…that's really –"

"Creepy," Apollo answered flatly.

"Yeah…" Wright rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly. "I…wanted to be able to help. But I didn't see a way that I could. I asked Edgeworth for help with –" he stopped, swallowed, and looked away again. "With something."

"With what?" The bracelet was tightening around Apollo's wrist, and he felt a little sick. "What did you do, Mr. Wright?"

"…I asked Edgeworth to…to help…make sure that you got the surgery you needed." That was…embarrassment. That was what Apollo was detecting. Nervousness, afraid to admit that he did something so selfless for someone he didn't even know. And there was something else there too, another sort of fear that Apollo couldn't place just yet. "I couldn't really do anything else. Miles owed me a few favors – I told him to count it as a Christmas present. I knew there was no way they'd let me adopt you." Apollo could see a blush running down his neck as his talking sped up. "I mean, I'm gay, I'm not married, and given all of the violent shit that happened to me when I was a lawyer – well, I'm a lawyer again, but you know –"

Apollo cut him off, taking a breath and blindly pushing his lips to Mr. Wright's face. He wasn't sure what he was trying to kiss – his cheek? his eyes? his forehead? He manages to catch the other man's lips, just at the corner.

But he was pretty determined. He didn't know how else to express what he was feeling, so he just pursed his lips and kept them pressed. It hadn't occurred to him that Mr. Wright might push him off - or maybe it had, and he didn't have the energy to care.

He was tired of extending his neck so awkwardly, so Apollo pulled back. He didn't feel as bad as he had been, but something in him was twisting – like it had earlier, when he realized the man next to him was wearing cologne.

Jealousy. That must have been what it was. Possessiveness, or something else along those lines. He was afraid of the rejection, especially now that Phoenix and Trucy and Athena were really all he had left. If he'd crossed the line now…he'd have to find himself another job. Another home. Again.

Mr. Wright's head was turned down. He had an odd sort of smile on his face, one that wasn't doing anything to lessen the pressure in Apollo's stomach. "I…thought you wouldn't be okay with that."

It was like he'd managed to step into a completely different conversation. "Uhm. What?"

"The –" his blushing was more intense, redder, and his hand fell through his hair again out of compulsion. "The kissing."

This really must have been another universe. "Uhm, Mr. Wright? I kissed you, not the other way around."

"I know! But I – I wanted to. To kiss you. Before. Several times, actually."

Everything was so light and airy inside Apollo's chest that he thought he might start singing. "So why didn't you?"

He let out a strangled laugh. "Apollo, did you just – did you just listen to anything that I said?"

"Yes."

"And it doesn't bother you?" Apollo shook his head. "You're ten years younger than me. You're my employee, for Christ's sake –"

"So?"

"Apollo," the look on his face was dead serious. It reminded Apollo of all the dark looks he used back when he was still disbarred. "I wasn't even nice to you at first – I wasn't even all that great at consoling you after Clay died. Why would you even want this?"

"It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than me," Apollo said quietly. He swallowed, looking at the side of Phoenix's head. "I figured you…had your reasons, for how you were. You were betrayed by a close friend. I thought I was just a tool to get back at him –"

"I didn't want to get attached." It wasn't loud, it wasn't forceful, but it was a correction nonetheless. "Everyone else left. I didn't want to get used to the idea that you wouldn't do the same. There was no reason for me to hope for that. Pushing you away was easier than accepting that."

Apollo was quiet for a moment. "So this past year –"

"I didn't want to show favoritism," he smirked. "I guess I did, just…not to you. So much else was going on that I – I didn't want to do anything to make things more unstable." He pinched the letter between two fingers. "I had this for the longest time. I thought, after you got more settled, after that last trial, I would give it to you. But then everything just…happened, the way that it did. And I didn't want to press this on you let alone make you uncomfortable by being…affectionate."

Apollo's frown deepened. He put a hand gently on Wright's upper arm, afraid the man might flinch away. "But Mr. Wright, I'm not the one who's uncomfortable here."

The other man shook his head. "You have a point." He took one hand and, slowly, placed it over Apollo's, rubbing one thumb over the other. "It's been a long time. It's not easy, letting myself get attached. Not when there's no certainty that you'll stay."

"Well, look on the bright side. I really don't have anywhere else to go."

Mr. Wright finally looked at him, his expression almost disgusted. "That's not a bright side, that's horrible, Apollo."

"I was joking."

"But it's true, and that's what makes it so awful." Apollo didn't need the bracelet any more; the hurt was plain in his voice and eyes. "If you had somewhere else to be, would you really choose to stay here?"

Apollo had to think about it, torn between frustration and upset. It was a difficult question to answer. So, like with everything else…he told the truth. "I don't know what I would have chosen. To be honest, it doesn't matter. I might not have Clay anymore, but there is always a third option. That's what all of our cases are built on – there are always other ways out. Don't you think that if I didn't want to be here, I'd be gone by now?" What he was saying must have been working; he could feel Wright's pulse slowing down. "If I didn't want to be with you, do you think I'd keep coming back?"

There was a long silence. When it ended, Apollo could feel his fingers being pried apart, so Mr. Wright could slide their hands together. "No, I guess not."

"This isn't where I thought I would be, ten years ago. It isn't perfect, but there's no such thing as perfection. Even striving for it could drive you crazy. And to be honest, I don't think I would have ever made a decision."

"What do you mean?" he was a lot less jittery now, his face not drawn taught and his tone only curious, not desperate.

Apollo shrugged. "I don't want to be made to choose between two things. I would have chosen both you and Clay. Both here and GYAXA." He swallowed. _Why am I getting so emotional about this? It's been a year, Apollo. Let it go_. "But that decision was m-made for me –"

He felt a little ridiculous, being pulled into another man's lap at the age of twenty-three, even though there was no one around to judge him. But it was nice, being enveloped by warmth and the softness of Wright's sweater; how real it was to be able to feel his heart beating by physical contact. Apollo let go of his reservations, pushing his hand through Wright's hair and reveling in how light it was, grabbing onto it like it could keep him from shaking.

* * *

><p>They stayed hidden away long enough for the two of them to stop crying and to get some things straight ("Please stop calling me Mr. Wright, it makes me feel like I'm in love with a fourth grader"). There were several small kisses that still felt stolen and came out of nowhere.<p>

It was nearly one in the morning when they decided to leave. They'd been in the room for over an hour, but they were fairly certain everyone was too drunk to notice their absence. Apollo kept their hands laced, hoping that this too would go unnoticed. The last thing he wanted was to answer repetitive questions from drunk people who would only ask them again once they were sober.

Their attempts to be subtle failed miserably, if for no other reason than because the other guests seemed to have taken sabotaging one another with mistletoe. There were at least three sprigs above the arch that led into the hallway, and everyone who had heard the door open and close again turned to look at them.

"Daddy!" Trucy attempted to place her hands on her hips, but the image was ruined by her stumble. Apollo was already dreading the mess a drunk sixteen year-old would leave in the apartment, especially since he had a strange feeling that he was probably going to be the one to clean it up.

Trucy, nonetheless, did her best to stay upright and sound scolding. "Did you make Polly cry?" she demanded.

"Uh," Phoenix started. "No?"

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhuuushhh," Trucy hissed. "I want Polly to answer! You might be lying."

Apollo couldn't help but be amused. "No, Trucy. He didn't make me cry."

"Good!" she clapped her hands together and almost fell backwards into Pearl, who only giggled in response, her hand coming up to rest on Trucy's back. "'Cuz you and Daddy are standin' under some mistletoe, and I expect some smoochin'."

Apollo was too tired for this nonsense, and he opened his mouth to let Trucy know this when he was turned, his face cupped in warm hands and his lips met with genuine, soft kisses.

And for the first time in about a year, Apollo was actually happy.


End file.
